


beneath the stars, miles from where you are

by artenon



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 16:33:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3817369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artenon/pseuds/artenon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This is ridiculous.”</p><p>“You’re going along with it, though,” Kuroo says, not denying the claim because maybe it is a little ridiculous, and smiling as he presses the phone closer to his ear. It’s a coincidence, but it’s because of this he hears Tsukishima’s soft, “Only for you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	beneath the stars, miles from where you are

**Author's Note:**

> shows up 2 months late with fic for ask meme. nice. it's 4 AM and i'm gay i'm sorry idk what to say.
> 
> this was for a "things you said" type meme on tumblr, and this is a combination of four different ones. (it could also be "things you said over the phone," but no one sent me that)
> 
> _03\. things you said too quietly  
>  06\. things you said under the stars and in the grass  
> 09\. things you said when I was crying  
> 18\. things you said when you were scared_
> 
> [(also on tumblr)](http://artenon.tumblr.com/post/117327187850)

“This is ridiculous.”

“You’re going along with it, though,” Kuroo says, not denying the claim because maybe it is a little ridiculous, and smiling as he presses the phone closer to his ear. It’s a coincidence, but it’s because of this he hears Tsukishima’s soft, “Only for you.”

“What was that?” Kuroo asks, light and playful, as if what Tsukishima said hasn’t just released a flutter of butterflies in his stomach. God, he’s so hopeless for him.

Tsukishima is silent, probably because he didn’t expect Kuroo to hear him. Kuroo can imagine his blush. It’s faint and pink and incredibly cute. He could comment on it, but he accepts the lack of response gracefully, sparing Tsukishima from further teasing to ask, “Are you lying down yet?”

“Yes,” Tsukishima says. “The grass is damp. This was a bad idea.”

“This was a great idea,” Kuroo replies, “and you could have brought a blanket.” Not that he thought to bring a blanket either, but the grass tickling the back of his neck is just a background sensation when he’s so focused on the person at the other end of the phone. If he closes his eyes, maybe he can pretend that Tsukishima is actually here next to him.

But Tsukishima sighs, and it sounds scratchy through the phone’s speaker, a sharp reminder that he’s not here, but miles and miles away in Miyagi. A gust of wind makes Kuroo cold, even though he’s wearing a jacket.

“You really are a sap,” Tsukishima says.

Kuroo stares up at the expanse of sky above him and imagines Tsukishima seeing the same stars, and thinks that if he can’t be next to him, then this must be the next best thing. “I’ve never denied it. And besides, you love it.”

“I do,” Tsukishima says after a pause, and it’s almost too quiet for Kuroo to hear, again. He’s not sure he was meant to.

He wishes Tsukishima would have the confidence to say these things loud and clear—Tsukishima’s just as much of a sap as he is, or nearly, anyway, and Kuroo knows it—but for now, Kuroo will take the whispers, keep them somewhere deep inside him, the things Tsukishima is too shy to say loudly, the things he says when he thinks Kuroo can’t hear or isn’t listening. They’re all things Kuroo knows anyway, but there’s something special about hearing them out loud.

“I love you,” Kuroo says, unbidden.

“I love you, too.” It’s an embarrassed mumble still, but it’s louder, and Kuroo smiles. Hearing Tsukishima say it always makes him smile.

“I am,” Kuroo says, “so incredibly fond of you.” He doesn’t know how to express to Tsukishima how much he cares for him, doesn’t think it’s even possible to capture in words. But when they’re so far apart, words are all he has. He should brush up on his poetry. “I love you more than there are stars in the sky. I’m breathlessly in love with you, Kei.”

He feels breathless now, as he often does when he thinks about Tsukishima and how beautiful he is and how in love Kuroo feels. Loving Tsukishima—being loved by Tsukishima—is a breathtaking experience.

On the other end, there’s silence, and then a soft, choked-off, “I.”

“Hm?”

Tsukishima could have brushed it off, Kuroo knows, which is why it means so much when he says, soft but clear, “I wish I was there.”

“I wish you were here, too,” Kuroo says. “Or that I was there.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Tsukishima blurts, and then curses under his breath. “I mean, of course I want you to go. I know you’ll love it, I just—I don’t want you to…” He falters. “…Not be here. Sorry. I’m being selfish.”

“Oh, Kei,” Kuroo murmurs. He rolls onto his side, head pillowed on his arm, and curls into himself. It feels a lot lonelier out here than it did a minute ago. “Do you think I _want_ to leave you? You’re even coming to my university.” They were finally going to be together after so long, but Kuroo…

“That was a coincidence,” Tsukishima grumbles. He’s embarrassed again. “It’s a good school.”

“It’s only for a year,” Kuroo says. “Less, even.”

“Only,” Tsukishima echoes. “It’s—it’s just a little scary. Sorry.”

Kuroo’s throat is closing up. He wants to study abroad. He’s going to study abroad. He’s always known this—only, he hasn’t always known Tsukishima, Tsukishima hasn’t always been in the picture, and now he is. His free hand curls into a loose fist; he really wishes he could hold Tsukishima’s right now.

“You don’t have to apologize every time you express an emotion that isn’t strictly positive,” he says. He means to sound gentle, patient, but he probably just sounds really wobbly because he’s about to cry. “Believe me, I’m gonna miss you so much. So, so much.” He sniffles noisily.

“Are—are you crying?” Tsukishima asks after a hesitant pause.

“I love you,” Kuroo says instead of replying—it’s horribly obvious anyway. He sits up so he can let the tears fall from his eyes and rubs them away with the back of his hand.

“I love you, too,” Tsukishima says, “but you haven’t even left yet.”

“We can’t even do this when I’m in America,” Kuroo says, the words breaking. “When it’s nighttime here, it’ll be daytime over there.”

“Doing what?” Tsukishima asks. “We can still find time to talk. We don’t need to stare at the stars while we do it. Please stop crying.”

He sounds so flustered. Tsukishima has never known how to deal with tears—Kuroo found this out after he started crying while they were watching a movie together. It wasn’t even a sad movie; it was a romantic comedy, but Kuroo cries at any movie, pretty much. Tsukishima was so awkward and endearing, not sure what to say to comfort Kuroo, and he ended up just wrapping his arms around him and hugging him. He’s not here to hug Kuroo’s tears away this time, though.

“I can’t,” Kuroo says, laughing a little as he swipes his arm over his eyes. “I don’t want to be so far away from you.”

“Oh,” Tsukishima breathes. “I love you, you know.”

That’s three already. Kuroo wonders how many times he’ll get to hear it from him tonight.

“I know,” Kuroo says.

“So please stop crying.”

“I’m just gonna cry _more_ because of how much I love you,” Kuroo replies.

“Oh, my God.”

He’s not lying, though. The tears are getting a bit out of control now, and he makes an involuntary little sobbing noise in his throat.

“Tetsu…”

“I love you, I love you, I wish I could be with you,” Kuroo whispers.

“I love you, too, Tetsu,” Tsukishima says. “I’ll miss you—I miss you.”

Kuroo can’t stop crying. It’s not all bad, though. He’s desperately sad and already feeling lonely at the thought of being even farther apart than usual, an ocean apart, but he’s also so, so happily in love and happy to be loved. His heart feels empty and full all at once, and this, this must be how it feels to love someone with your entire being, to love someone so much that it aches.

Tsukishima repeats Kuroo’s name softly and fumbles through phrases like “it’ll be okay” and “I’m here,” until Kuroo’s sobs subside.

“I love you, you know,” Kuroo says, voice stuffy.

“You may have mentioned it once or twice,” Tsukishima says, the effect of his teasing lost in his obvious relief that Kuroo has stopped crying (sort of).

“Shut up. I love you.”

Tsukishima gets embarrassed that Kuroo says it so often, but when they’re long-distance, sometimes, that’s all Kuroo feels like he _can_ do, just remind Tsukishima over and over that he loves him. It’s possible he’s gone a bit overboard with it tonight, but he can’t seem to stop.

“I love you, Tetsu,” Tsukishima says, surprisingly confident, and surprisingly not telling Kuroo to quit with all the ‘I love you’s because he knows already. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me.”

Kuroo’s heart might just burst. “Oh, my God. You’re going to make me cry again.”

“Please don’t.”

“Okay, okay I’m trying not to. For you. Because I love you.”

“Thanks,” Tsukishima says drily.

“Crying wasn’t really part of my plan tonight, anyway,” Kuroo says.

“I hadn’t guessed,” Tsukishima says. “What _was_ the plan?”

“Well, it involved impressing you with my knowledge of constellations, but to be honest, I just looked them up online before calling you and it’s way different when I’m actually looking at the sky.”

Tsukishima laughs. It’s a bright sound that makes Kuroo’s heart skip a beat.

“You’re hopeless,” he says.

“I know,” Kuroo sighs.

“Can you see Orion’s belt?” Tsukishima asks. “They’re the three bright stars in a row.”

“Oh—yeah!” Kuroo says, spotting them. “I know those.”

Tsukishima chuckles again, softer, and begins describing the other stars that make up the constellation. They’re not so easy to pinpoint, but he’s content to just listen to Tsukishima talk about the constellation and what it’s meant to represent. He bites his tongue to keep from interjecting with, ‘God, I love you so much and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.’ He finds he has to resist from saying that a lot.

“You’re not getting any of this, are you,” Tsukishima says, mid-explanation, but he sounds fond.

Kuroo is going to marry that boy one day.

One day he’ll ask him properly. It won’t be until some years from now, probably, so far off in the future that Tsukishima hasn’t even considered such a thing yet, but right now Tsukishima’s voice is warm, the stars are beautiful, and Kuroo has never been so sure of anything in his life.


End file.
